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In living,
I have become bleached,
and tainted by a seething existence.
Daily, I creep farther away from who I am,
and what was known to others,
and for others
as me.
Thought by thought I progress-
to a new understanding of self and esteem.
But it is lonely
and it is tiring.
It is unknown
and it is painful.
It is a bleaching effect,
but it is who I have become.
Not that I want it.
Not that I chose it.
Not that I don't want it.
Not that I know who I am, or who I was,
where I'm going or where I am.
Not that I know what it is to know it, to want it,
or to choose to not want it.
But that rather in this state of confusion, and yes, hysteria...
slowly I am becoming acclimated.

About this poem

Representative of a disenchanted period in my life, during college, where I had let myself waiver...

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Written on December 14, 1999

Submitted by monal on August 31, 2021

43 sec read

Monal M Patel

Russian scholar by way of Boston University more…

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    "Bleached." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 26 Nov. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/108206/bleached.>.

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